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Summary:  After the war, the survivors struggle, trying to find a way to cope with the losses they have incurred and move into a future they have yet to create. As they try to find ways to save themselves, they realize that perhaps the best way is to save each other. 
 
This story will eventually be Harry Draco Slash. It will probably take a while to get there from here.  This chapter is rated about the same as Book 7.

Disclaimer
: Harry Potter, his friends, his enemies, and the lovely world they live in all belong to JK Rowling. The first chapter or two has some direct quotes from Chapters 31 through 36 of book seven peppered throughout, as it is Draco’s point of view of events we have already seen from Harry’s. After the final battle, we’ll be branching off.

I have several chapters already written, and will be posting them here after I proof them. I also have some scattered scenes from later on. Reviews and feedback would be most helpful in inspiring me to write onward!

After I get the whole story written here, I will upload it to a few fanfic sites.

CHALLENGE:  Can anyone think of a better name for this story?

Enjoy!

Chapter 3: A Purpose – Draco
 
Draco’s gaze darted around. He could see nothing in the debris to help Snape. Feeling like an intruder, he searched his Godfather’s pockets for something, anything, that would help. His Godfather was a Potions Master, by Merlin’s dirty socks. He surely carried something. Anything. There was a bottle, but it was just for pain. He needed antivenin, he needed blood replenisher, he needed…
 
He needed to stopper death. Draco knew what his Godfather meant, in that first amazing Potions class all those years ago. Snape had showed him the page in a potions book, showed him a potion that was almost impossible to make. He was trying to make a point at the time, Draco remembered. He had been frustrated with Draco for spending time in class distracting Potter, instead of learning the potion himself. He had wanted to instil in Draco his own love of potions, of how many there were, of all that could be done with them. Draco had stopped believing in the first day speech, had challenged the older man to prove what potions could do. 
 
And Snape had showed him the recipe.
 
Had his godfather ever made the potion? It was not much of a chance, but it was the only one he could think of. 
 
Crawling through the tunnel again would take too much time. Draco dashed from the room, looking for a door to the outside. There were doors and windows, but they were all boarded up. Draco suddenly realized where he was. This was the Shrieking Shack! But he could not think about that now, or the rumour that it was haunted. How would he carry Severus back to the dungeons, let alone with no one seeing? He could not drag Snape through the tunnel. He could Apparate if he had a wand. He could not Apparate into the castle, but he could get to the clearing where he and Snape had met before going to Death Eater Meetings. The thought of the meetings, of Severus serving the Dark Lord, faithfully, year after year, made Draco furious. This was how his Godfather had been repaid.
 
He needed to get back to the castle. He needed a wand. 
 
And there it was.
 
Snape’s wand.
 
Wonderingly, Draco picked it up. He had used his mothers wand since spring, after Potter had taken his. It had never felt quite right, but this, holding his godfather’s wand, felt… wrong. He felt like he had intruded into his parents’ bedroom. Like he was holding something private, something personal. “Lumos.” The tip of the wand flickered, as uncertain as his voice. Draco took a deep, steadying breath. “Lumos.”
 
A brighter flare came out of the tip of the wand.  It felt odd, like he was casting a spell through Severus himself, like he was using Snape’s body as a wand.  Draco shivered.  He cast a lightening charm on the older man, and then crouched down and pulled one of Snape's arms over his shoulder, turning to hoist him onto his back.  Leaning forward, Draco took a step to make sure he had a firm grip.  Even lightened, it was awkward.  Severus was significantly taller, and his knees bumped into Draco’s calves, his body dangling down Draco’s back.  It was undignified, but Snape would never know.  Now for the challenge.  Could he Apparate with Severus’ wand?  Did he have any choice?
 
 
He had learned to Apparate years before he had been allowed to take the stupid ministry classes. His father had insisted. He had not been allowed to do it where anyone could see, but his father had told him that he needed to be able to escape from difficult situations. But this, Apparating with someone else’s wand, carrying that person. It was dangerous. Perhaps…
 
He held Severus’ hand in his wand hand, arranging it so Severus’ fingers touched the wand as well. It felt, less invasive. As if Severus were sharing, instead of him intruding in the other man’s absence. Draco took a deep breath, straightened, and Apparated with a loud crack. 
 
It worked.
 
There were no sounds of battle, the one hour cease fire was still in force. The quiet was punctuated by cries of discovery, of sorrow as bodies were discovered, of anguish as bodies were recognized. Draco did not pause to listen.
 
There was a short walk from the apparition field just past Hagrid’s hut to the Slytherin dungeons and Professor Snape’s quarters. Draco and Snape had used it before, a side door that was charmed to recognize only those who were current students or faculty in Slytherin. Draco sprinted toward it, trying to keep Snape’s lightened body steady. He held out Snape’s wand, said the charm that would open the door, and hurried inside, frustrated at even the brief amount of time to navigate Snape’s body awkwardly through the door.  
 
Draco was glad that Snape had never moved to the Headmaster’s quarters, had held on to his rooms in the dungeons. And that his godfather had given him the password, threatening dire consequences if he ever used it for anything short of an emergency. He could not imagine getting his godfather’s body any further than the man’s dungeon quarters.
 
Snape’s rooms were dark. Draco pointed the wand at the sconces along the walls and lit them. Making his way to the sofa, he deposited Snape on it and, as if freed from a trap, sprinted toward the room off to the side where Severus kept his potions and supplies. Again with his Godfather’s wand, feeling a little less awkward each time he used it, Draco unlocked the door, pushed it open and, with a quiet Lumos, scanned the room. Reaching out to the various bottles lining the shelves that covered the walls from floor to ceiling, he grabbed a tall blue one, a clear round bottle, and a square red one. Blood replenisher, antivenin, and a potion to support heart function. But none of that would do any good if Severus was not alive for the potions to course through him. 
 
He needed the potion. Put a stopper in death. Severus would have made it. He would not have been able to see the recipe and yet resist trying it.
 
Draco scanned the walls, looking for something misplaced, something… His father had taught them both this trick, hiding through misdirection… There. A long, red bottle on its side. Severus would never allow even that much disorder in his private stores. Draco reached toward the bottle, then stopped himself. Too easy. That would likely be a trap. He followed the mouth of the bottle, followed line of sight. It pointed to a small clear bottle that appeared to be empty. Draco made to pick it up, but it was stuck, as if affixed to the counter. That would be it. But what would be the mechanism? He reached and removed the stopper.
 
As soon as he did, the stopper grew, changed colour. It elongated and became reddish. Clever. Draco carefully put the stopper in the red bottle on its side, and one of the shelves clicked loose, causing a segment of wood panelled wall, together with the shelves covering it, to swing slightly ajar. A flush of pride, both in himself for figuring it out, and in his godfather for going beyond the obvious, filled him for a moment, but Draco did not have time to indulge it. Draco pulled the now revealed cabinet door aside, to expose a cabinet twice the width of his shoulders, and three shelves tall. Shelves covered the back of the hidden cabinet door, as well as the back wall, making the storage double deep. Draco scanned them. They were meticulously labelled in Severus’ square lettering. Illegal potions, potions with rare ingredients, and potions that were virtually impossible to make. Except for a master of Snape’s competence. 
 
Draco just needed the one. He scanned the shelves, feeling the urgency, seeing Snape’s body in his mind. He could be dead already. Snape said the potion had to be administered within a set amount of time. An hour? Half an hour? Draco could not remember. If only he could remember what the potion was called, he would take the risk. It was a strange name, almost as if it called on the Muggle deity. He visualized the page, saw the list of ingredients in his mind, saw the faded handwriting on the page, and then, as if accidentally, glanced upward to happen across the name of the potion. Godot. The potion was called Godot. Snape had laughed when Draco asked why, but would not tell him.
 
He had to find it. Snape had to have made it. It had to be there. Draco’s felt anguish rising as he scanned bottle after bottle.   He panted with tension, his eyesight narrowed to see just the labels, Gestalt, Gethsemane, Grimoire… no, back. He had it.
 
Snape had made it.
 
Draco reached out, carefully, and picked up the bottle, afraid to drop it in his anxiety. He carried it out to his godfather on the sofa, carefully, as if afraid he would spill it, despite the stopper in the top. 
 
Dosage. Draco did not have time to find the book with the recipe and dosage. He might already be out of time. He knelt by his godfather, unstoppered the bottle, and shook a drop onto Severus’ lips. He reached for the older man’s neck, searching for the spot where the pulse had thrummed, searched. There was nothing. Draco pulled down Severus’ jaw, opening his mouth, and poured a drop directly on his tongue. Nothing. The pulse had stopped.
 
Frantic, Draco poured a full swallow’s worth of the potion directly on the back of Severus’ throat, stroking the front of his throat, hoping it would cause the swallowing reaction like it did for animals. 
 
 “Swallow. Swallow. Please swallow…” Draco muttered a desperate litany. But the older man lay still. Draco pointed Snape’s own wand at supine man’s throat and shouted, “swallow, damn you!” A spark of uncontrolled magic rolled like lightening off Draco’s skin, down the wand, and burst with a bright yellow light at the potion master’s throat, leaving behind a circle of burned skin.
 
Severus Snape swallowed.
 
He coughed, sputtering some of the draught back, dribbling it across his lips in a smear of red spittle.
 
And then Draco’s fingers felt it. A slow bump against his fingertips. A pulse. Slow, too slow. Draco reached for the next bottle. He needed to get the poison out. He poured the antivenin into Severus’ open mouth, then with Severus’ wand, cast a charm on the open wound on the potion master’s neck. He saw the poison stream out, and then the dark, oxygen starved blood. 
           
Next potion: an organ strengthening potion, for the heart, lungs, liver. Draco poured half of the small bottle in.
 
Severus’ breathing steadied, the pulse became more regular, the time between heartbeats became less.
 
Draco wanted to close the wound, but he was not controlled enough using another wizard’s wand, especially not this wand, and did not want to risk doing more harm than good. He could scarcely believe he hadn’t caused damage in the spells he had cast. Only the truly desperate would use another wizard’s wand, let alone for something delicate. He had needed to work for weeks to get his mother’s wand to behave, and she was surprisingly compatible with him. Holding his teacher’s wand, Draco still could not help but feel like he was intruding. Severus Snape was extremely protective of his privacy, and Draco was using one of the most intimate tools a wizard owned. Now that Snape was breathing regularly, Draco did not dare use the wand directly on the other man’s body again. 
 
But the older man was dangerously white, and the wound was still leaking blood. It looked clear of venom, so Draco used the wand to rip two strips of cloth from his burned, debris-torn, dust-covered robes, and spelled them clean with a Scourgify. He wadded one to press against the wound, and the base of the neck where it met the shoulder, and bound the other around the wadded cloth and under the opposing shoulder.
 
When it looked like the blood loss had slowed, Draco poured the blood replenishing potion into Snape’s mouth, and watched with wild, crazed joy as the other man swallowed.
 
Everything he had used, every bit of knowledge on how to use these potions, and on what they did and what to watch for, was due to the man lying before him. Draco was merely an instrument of Severus Snape’s knowledge and skill. This time, Draco found he did not mind.
 
But Severus needed more than Draco could offer. Without a wand under his control, Draco had done all he could. Much as he wanted to stay and stand guard until Severus got better, his godfather was not yet safe. If Draco were to just sit here, it might be only to watch as he d–

No. Draco needed to get a healer. 
 
Draco activated the floo in Snape’s sitting room, then paused. The Hospital floo might well be active, but Draco rather doubted that he’d be welcome, if he burst through. Chances are, he’d be at the end of several curses and hexes if he did. And asking for help for Severus Snape was not likely to provide much in the way of results. No, he needed to do this another way. 
 
With one last look at Snape, Draco took his teacher’s wand, and carefully cast a disillusionment charm on himself. He could feel the tingling of magic lay on his skin, letting him know that it was working. Still holding the wand out, Draco ran toward hospital wing. Would they be using it as such? Draco ran, cursing that he could not Apparate, that the Floo was as good as closed to the likes of him. 
 
The path from dungeon to hospital was not the clear path it once had been. While the dungeons were still fairly clear of debris, the ground floor and first floor were covered in chunks of rock burst loose from the castle walls, portraits that had fallen off those walls, some shrieking to anyone that passed to set them aright, some empty as the occupants crowded elsewhere, presumably to watch the battle. Draco did not want to see the bodies, bloodied, left behind like litter. He stepped over them when he could, and did his best to avoid looking at their faces lest he recognise a schoolmate, a teacher. Even if it were someone from another house, he was not sure he could bear it. 
 
Well, maybe if it were a Weasel. But Draco’s stomach twisted at even that image.
 
When he had repaired the vanishing cabinets last year, he had only imagined The Dark Lord’s army of death eaters marching through, victorious, cowing the idiots that supported Dumbledore. He had imagined them cringing, recognising the superiority of the Dark Lord and the Pureblood way of life. He imagined the recognition he would get for being the one to make it happen. But after awhile, there was no illusion of victory, only a desperate attempt to save his parents’ lives. Even then, he could not have imagined this battlefield, nor could he now equate it with his school. This—carnage—this was not noble, this was not victory. And it should not have happened at Hogwarts. Hogwarts was for students to learn, to taunt each other, and compete with one another. It was for them to grow into their power. For all that Dumblebore was a daft do-gooder a few candles short of a cake, for all the ways the school had treated Slytherin like the stepchild no one wanted to talk about, Hogwarts was still – Hogwarts. A place where Dumbledore had offered Draco a second chance, even while the old man was at the end of Draco’s wand. Hogwarts was where Draco had the chance to learn, to excel, to show off what he was capable of, albeit coming in second to a bloody Mudblood. Draco’s father had never forgiven him for that.
 
He climbed the stairs to third level, the staircase suddenly lurching sideways as he neared the top, and he had to wait for it to settle before he burst off it, into the corridor. He could see sky. The walls here had been crushed in places, jagged edges with large openings. Pieces of the ceiling had come crashing to the floor. The direct path was blocked, so he made his way around, down another corridor, nervously across a bridge high up above the middle courtyard. 
 
There was no one alive in the corridors, but he could hear that the battle had started again. Everyone was outside, and the Dark Lord was shouting something about Potter. The sound of the response made Draco wonder what had happened. But he couldn’t think about Potter now, he had to get to the Hospital wing.
 
As he got closer, he saw people again, ahead of him, in the main corridor to the hospital rooms. Some people carried bodies, others helped friends as they limped along, with burns, or cuts, or broken limbs, or disfigured body parts.
 
Now that he was here, Draco needed to be careful. He could still feel the charm on his skin, causing eyes to look away. No one important here. He knew anyone who saw him would see different features than his, would not see his begrimed white-blond hair, or face or body shape. Nevertheless, Draco ducked behind a statue, into an alcove in the wall, out of the way of the people milling about the hall. 
 
They were all against the Dark Lord. And while Draco knew he could not fight for the—for Voldemort (for he was no longer a lord of any sort, Dark or not, that Draco wanted to follow, after what he had done to Snape), no one else knew that. If they were to see past his Disillusionment charm, he would not only not get what he came for, he would get a first hand experience in a lovely array of hexes and curses, and possibly a reserved room with all the amenities at Azkaban. 
 
Unless the Dark Lord won. And Draco had no idea what the Dark— what Voldemort would do with him. Nor, at this point, did he want to know. His only concern right now was getting the best healer he could for his godfather.
 
click tracking


TBC (Note: the next few chapters should arrive fairly quickly, but not continuing on the one a day speed that these three did.  I am reaching the part of the story that needs more than just proofing before posting.   Reviews help drive me onward!)

Thanks for reading!


Back to Chapter 1
Back to Chapter 2
On to Chapter 4



Date: 2008-05-03 06:20 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] aneclipseawaits.livejournal.com
I LOVE IT.
=D so far at least.


i really think you're capturing the characters personalities extremely well. Draco seems very IC, and so do Harry/Hermione/Ron. I can't wait to see where this fic is going.

do you need a beta? you said you're now at the point that you need to do more than proof, & i would be happy to help. I've read alot of D/H fics and i'm completely hooked. i could help with pretty much anything, except maybe the brit slang (as i'm american) but other than that, i would love to if you needed it. =D I started to write my own, but found out i am much too busy to have time to work on it.

anyway, the offer stands if you'd like help.
UPDATE SOON!

Date: 2008-05-04 05:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imuptonogood.livejournal.com
I'm glad you are enjoying the fic. I may just take you up on that offer. Betas are precious. I have a friend helping with some of the brainstorming, who is wonderful, but I could certainly use assistance, especially with canon proofing and paint-into-a-corner avoiding.

Date: 2008-05-18 07:13 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imuptonogood.livejournal.com
I have already posted Chapter 5, but would be happy to have a beta read of it... I am perfectly willing to fix issues (really trying to get a sense of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Lucius, and Draco's response to him.

The chapters I am posting on the imuptonogood journal are proofread and edited, but I would not call them fully betaed. Before I post them on any fanfiction sites, I do want to have them checked for:

Are the Characters fully in character, given the developments?

Are the events canon-compliant through Book 7, excluding epologue?

Language, Spelling, Grammar, Word-Choice, Britpicking;

Awkward and repetitive sentences.

Are you interested? Do you feel up to it?

I think you can send a private message from my user info page.

Thanks!

K (Who is up to no good)

Date: 2008-05-03 09:23 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thrnbrooke.livejournal.com
I sooo can't wait for more! I had always hoped that Severus was saved!

Date: 2008-05-04 05:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imuptonogood.livejournal.com
Thanks for commenting. Glad you are enjoying the story. More coming soon!

K

chapter 3 - Finding Salvation

Date: 2008-05-03 10:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ldydark1.livejournal.com
After working a 6 day stretch, with the last 2 being 5 am and 4 am wake ups,
I like to come online and read. Reading works like these help me to leave the work environment behind. I like your story very much. It is obvious that you
have put alot of research and time into it. I like how you are weaving
parts of the book into your own fanfiction. Keep up the good work!
I just saved this story so I can read further updates. Thank you for a good read.

Re: chapter 3 - Finding Salvation

Date: 2008-05-04 05:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imuptonogood.livejournal.com
I am so glad the story is helping you wind down from work. I read fanfiction in much the same way!

More chapters are certainly coming... I have two more chapters consecutive to the start of the story almost ready to go. Both need a bit of tweaking (and a few decisions) before I can post them.

Thank you for reading!

K

Date: 2009-03-02 02:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] rosskpr.livejournal.com
Well done! I like the use of Draco's talent at potions as the key to saving Snape, and the Slytherin mind at work deciphering Snape's hiding place for the illegal potions.

Since you asked for constructive criticism, the only place I'd ask you to revisit is the passage where Draco apparates with Snape from the Shrieking Shack. I had a hard time visualizing the way Draco is positioned with Snape's prone body. It obviously would be extremely awkward. Does he try to use a spell to lift Snape from the floor? Does he grasp him tightly to his chest in a crouching position? Or....? I think this scene could be stronger with a bit more detail.

I'm enjoying the luxury of not having to wait for the next chapter, as I joined your fan club late. ;~) On to Four!

Date: 2009-03-02 06:26 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] imuptonogood.livejournal.com
Thank you! Readers like you, who comment to each chapter, and give constructive criticism, no less, are a joy to write for. You make me want to hurry and post the next chapter!

I will definitely be looking at that bit, thanks for the suggestion.

Happy reading.

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July 2012

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